Love, Sex and The End of The World
by DaughterofDuck
Summary: Eight people, Eight days and a whole host of problems. A super-powered and highly dysfunctional family finds themselves back together again, in their childhood home, after years apart because of the death of their adoptive father. Oh, and did I mention the world's about to end? OC/Five WARNING underage sex, sort of... he looks 13 but is 58? Klaus/Dave Allison/Luther...sort of.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Eight Came Late, Like She Had The First Time.**

On October 1st, 1989, as the clock struck the twelfth hour, forty-three women around the world gave birth. This was unusual because none of the women had been pregnant when the day began.

Sir Reginald Hargreaves, an eccentric billionaire, vowed to adopt and raise as many of these children as he could.

He got seven.

Then one found him.

**Vanya: Number Seven.**

**Thirty Years Later.**

It was strange being back. It felt like a life times ago that she had last been to the house and equally as if it had only been yesterday that she left for the last time.

It was still the same opulent but empty establishment she remembered, filled with expensive furnishings and artefacts from all around the world that her father had collected on his travels. The same familiar rich wood panelling and the familiar thick carpets, the same painted landscapes of the English countryside.

It was stranger to think she wouldn't find her father in his office behind his desk or at the dinning table taking breakfast and reading his newspaper. He wasn't going to be found anywhere. He was dead.

She was apprehensive about seeing her siblings again after all this time and she was still in two minds about coming even as she walked through the door with the Umbrella Academy insignia on the windowpanes.

Vanya hadn't seen any of them since before she had published her book. She had received an angry letter from Diego that had hurt. Quite alot. She could only hope he had cooled down. But she hadn't even heard that much from the rest.

She saw Mom in the sitting room and called out to her but she received no response. Mom just carried on staring into the fire she sat in front of.

Then she heard footsteps and turned to see Allison coming down the stairs looking as elegant as ever. Vanya had always felt especially short and awkward when standing next to her sister.

"Vanya, you're actually here." She greeted opening her arm for a hesitant hug.

"Hey Allison." She replied allowing herself to be pulled in to her sister's chest in a not quite warm hug.

"Hey Sis." She squeezed before letting go.

Their conversation was interrupted by Diego asking what she was doing there. Again she felt like she shouldn't have come. Even though he was her father too, maybe she should have just mourned private. Alone. Like she had done everything else most of her life.

But stay she did, at Allison's insistence, wandering the house. She found her book on the shelf, untouched as she had always thought it might be. Pogo tried to be reassuring as he always had but he wasn't very successful.

Looking up at the portrait of Five Eight had painted, she felt a pang. She missed her brother even after all the time had past as it had.

"How long has it been since Five's been gone?" She asked.

"Sixteen years, four months, fourteen days. Your father asked me to keep track." Pogo looked up at the portrait once again.

"You know something stupid." She admitted. "I always used to leave the lights on for him. I was scared that he would come back, it would be late and the house would be dark and he wouldn't be able to find us and would leave again. So every night I'd make a little snack and I'd leave the lights on."

"Oh I remember you're little snacks." Pogo reminisced with amusement in his voice. "I think I stepped in half of those peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches."

He sighed and the faint humour left his face.

"Your father always believed that Five was still out there somewhere. He never lost hope."

Vanya could admit to herself that she had. She had let go of the pain his loss had cause her, just as she had gotten over Ben's death. Even if Five was alive she couldn't see why he would come back here. Especially now their father was gone.

Five had been her best friend. He'd listen to her practise her violin while he read or wrote or calculated whatever had caught his interest at that moment. Neither of them had been very close to their other siblings. Well, Five and Eight had got along.

"Is Eight here?" She asked instead.

Pogo shook his head.

That was okay. Eight had always been late.

**Diego: Number Two.**

**Twenty Years Earlier.**

It must have been one or two o'clock in the morning when there was a knock at the door. Two had only heard it because he himself had been out of bed. He'd fought with One again and he'd sat up to stew in the attic watching the rain. He'd known he wasn't supposed to be up, he was supposed to be in bed ages ago, so he slipped from shadow to shadow to make his way across the house and to his room.

The echo of the doorknocker sounding over the rain on the roof startled him and he had frozen. He stood behind a pillar on the landing overlooking the front hall. Peaking around, he saw the silhouette of someone standing on the other side. It took a moment for Pogo to enter the hall and open the door.

"Is this the Umbrella Academy?" The woman's voice was hard to hear over the rain but he could just make it out.

"It is Miss. May I ask who's calling at such an hour?" Pogo answered.

The shift in body language was subtle but Diego recognized Pogo was readying for action. Their last field exercise (busting up a drug lab, destroying all the equipment, neutralizing the bad guys and leaving before the police arrived) had been a month ago and last week someone had broken in to get revenge on the them. He reached for one of his knives. Protecting his family was more important than getting caught out of bounds.

"I need to speak to Mr Hargreaves." She insisted.

Pogo took a step back and let her into the house. She was about five foot six and a bit on the curvy side without being fat. Her mousy brown hair fell straight, soaked with rain as it was, but loose strands were already beginning to curl around her temples as it dried. The blue of her cocktail dress stood out against her pale skin. Her feet were bare and she held matching high heels in one hand.

"May I ask what this is concerning?" Pogo questioned.

The woman visibly hesitated, shuffling from one foot to the other. "I'm...I'm pretty sure I'm one of those kids."

There was a pause.

"Excuse me for saying so Miss, but you are too old." Was Pogo's response.

Two watched the woman with wary eyes. They all knew the story of course, on the first of October 1989, forty three women had suddenly given birth even though they hadn't been pregnant the day before. His father had adopted seven of them. He was Number Two.

If she was telling the truth she'd be ten, which she clearly wasn't. So she was lying or delusional. Either could be a threat. He was pulling the knife his hand had been resting on out of it's sheath when the woman sighed.

"Yeah, about that..." Then she began to twist and shift and melt in places.

Shrinking down on herself, it took a moment but before his eyes she had changed. Where before there stood a woman now there stood a child. A girl who looked about his age with ginger hair beginning to roll into ringlets lay half way down her back. A splattering of freckles had erupted across her nose and cheeks and her eyes had gotten a little larger. Even if he was too far away to see the shade, he thought they had gotten darker in colour. The dress that had ended mid thigh now hung well below her knees and she had to hold up the front so it wouldn't slip off her shoulders as fall to the floor.

"...I am the right age." She said as she finished.

"I will fetch Sir Hargreaves immediately. Let me show you where to wait." Pogo extended an arm in the direction of his father's office and closed and locked the door behind her.

Two stayed put for ten minutes until he heard his father greet the girl and the door to his office close behind them. Part of him wanted to run up the stairs and wake up his brothers and sisters and tell them what he'd seen. But he knew that One would just try to tell him off for being out of bed and Three would take his side. Four would just make jokes about everything and Five would say something sarcastic to make them all feel dumb.

Instead he went to bed, deciding to see what Father had decided in the morning.

** Five: Number Five**

He knew straight away something was up.

He could say a lot about the old man, but one of the kindest was that he liked order. Everything ran on a schedule. They were woken up at six fifthteen and had forty five minutes to be ready for breakfast. There were only two bathrooms on that floor so Number One and Number Two always showered first, then Three and Four, then him and Six. Then it was supposed to be Seven but she didn't have time so had switched to showering before going to bed. Their father either hadn't noticed or hadn't cared. It was hard to tell with him but Five preferred to think he noticed but didn't care about all that stuff. It was better to assume he knew than to assume he didn't and get lazy in his covert actions, whatever they were at the time.

Breakfast was always served at seven with a bright smile from Mom. Father always sat in his chair and read the morning's newspaper in a silence nobody was allowed to break. Once breakfast was over, he would make any announcements or inform them of special training sessions that were outside of their normal daily lessons and training.

When they reached the dining room they were met by Mom at the door way.

"You're Father is running a little late today children. We must wait for him." She said with her usual smile.

Five couldn't remember that ever happening. He was always sitting in his chair at the head of the table waiting for them. They stood against the wall in the hall and waited. Four and Six were whispering to one side of him, Six was a good head shorter than the rest of them (two heads shorter than Number One,) so Four was leaning over to listen. Diego stood at the far end with Seven but neither of them were speaking, both just staring into the middle distance but Five thought Number Two looked particularly sulky.

Three was telling One about some magazine article she'd read. It wasn't very interesting but Number One gave her his full, if somewhat limited, attention. Five took out his pocket watch, a present from Mom on their tenth birthday. Breakfast was almost ten minutes late.

It was then that the doors opened and Mom led them into the dining room.

They had assigned seats. Number One and Number Two sat on either side of the head of the table with Three next to One and Four next to Two. Seven usually sat at the opposite end to their father. Today, however, their was a new, slightly longer table of a similar design to the old one. And nine chairs.

At the head of the table sat their father, reading the newspaper as usual. Standing behind the seat at the other end next to his own stood an unfamiliar girl. A freckled face looked up from her empty plate and stared at them with dark, analysing eyes. Five paused, as did his siblings, and looked from the girl to their father. He ignored them and carried on reading his newspaper.

Five made his way around the table to stand behind his chair. The girl was wearing an Umbrella Academy uniform like the rest of them, he noticed immediately, except she's wearing shorts like him and his brothers and not a pleated skirt like Three and Seven.

"Sit." Came their Father's order and they all took their seats.

Mom served breakfast like she didn't notice the new girl among their number. Or more probably, the girl had already been introduced and Mom had gone straight to treating the interloper like she'd been there all along. Just another one of the children.

Because that was what the girl had to be. Another of them. The forty three children born suddenly on October first, 1989. Another sister.

They all ate in silence, all of them glancing up at the new girl. She looked over each of them in turn and Five couldn't help but feel like they were being assessed in some way. Eventually the meal was over and their father put his newspaper down.

They all looked towards him.

"This is Number Eight. I will be testing her abilities for the next two weeks. Some of you will be called on to assist." He folded up his newspaper and tucked it under his arm, leaving them behind for his office.

Practically as one, they turned to her. She flinched back almost inperceptively but Five watched her recover with supposed ease.

"I'm Number One." He piped up predictably, then went around pointing to each of them. "Number Two and Number Three. That's Number Four and Number Six. That's Number Five and Number Seven."

The girl side-eyed him, he frowned.

"So, erm..." Number One stalled and Three cut across him.

"So you're Number Eight now. Did you have a name before?"

"Kira." The girl to his right answered with a frown. "But I don't like it. I think Eight might be better."

Five decided then and there to never call her anything else.

**Klaus: Number Four**

Number Eight was kind of funny, in a quiet, deadpan kind of way. She wasn't exactly shy but she was reserved. He noticed she preferred to sit at the edge of the group and watch the others.

It was a bit difficult to tell at first, as she spent most of the first few days doing written tests to the side in their lessons and did her training in private with their Father. Her room had been placed in the corridor one over from the one the rest of them slept in and she spent most of her down time there as well.

It wasn't until she had been four days that they got to see her in action.

They'd seen her power before of course. She'd given a demonstration on her first day, changing herself into Five as she sat next to him. It was uncanny how identical they had become. She copied his frown as he looked back at his own face and then she'd switched to Five's wide fake smile before switching again to his real smug one.

"You have an interesting face. Expressive." She'd said before switching back to her own.

Father had called them call to the gym after lunch, dressed in their identical, black camisole top, shorts and plimsoles and had already had Pogo set up a square made of tape on the ground. Eight stood in the center of the square, taking steady breaths. They were told to line up outside the square, Seven standing next to Father with a stop-watch and a whistle.

"When the whistle is blown Number One will enter the field of combat," He said gesturing to the marked square. "Number Eight will have two minutes to subdue or evade Number One. Then the whistle will be blown again and Number Two will enter the fight and Number One will leave it and so on until Number Eight is defeated or she has subdued all her opponents. Everyone has use of their powers."

This was dear old dad's special flavour of unfair. They'd all had combat training since they were old enough to walk and make a fist. He knew literally nothing about where Eight had come from, she had avoided or deflected every time someone asked anything about her past, but Four knew other kids didn't learn to fight like they did. Although, other kids didn't have powers and they weren't going to 'save the world' one day.

Five had already subtly pushed ahead of him to get a better view, so Four turned to look at Six. He thought his brother was thinking along the same thoughts as him but probably also worried about his upcoming fight. He didn't even know the girl, none of them really did, but he didn't want to hurt her.

Four wasn't sure how much shape-changing could help her in a fight. Like him, her powers seemed pretty useless for combat.

The whistle blew and One stepped forwards. And because he was One, he didn't hold back. He threw a fist at her that Four was sure would have broken her jaw had it hit her.

Eight was quick, quicker than he expected. She ducked the swing and was already moving around to one side, jabbing him in the ribs. But along with 'super' strength, his brother was somewhat reinforced. He'd had to be to survive jumping as high as he could or so as not to break his arm when he hit something with all his strength. He barely reacted at all, just began turning to try to hit her again.

But she was dancing away from him, getting all the distance she could while still staying in the square as instructed. He went after her again and again but Eight managed to avoid every hit. It was as Vanya blew the whistle that One landed a hit. They all heard the snap of her collar bone.

Even One froze for a moment. She staggered back but recovered her balance. Then another crack echoed in the silence the first had caused. Before their eyes the bone snapped back into place as Eight let out a grunt.

"Join the end of the line, Number One." Their Father called out, gesturing towards them to get a move on. "Number Two."

One took his place behind Six and looked over the top of them as Eight and Two began circling each other. His brother already had a knife in each hand, standing at the ready. They both took a few seconds, watching the other but it wasn't long before Two lunged.

Both of her hands reached out to grab his wrist, presumably to try to take his knife. Two countered that by bringing his other arm up and stabbing her in the shoulder. She grunted again and instantly put some distance between the two of them.

She reached up with her opposite hand, stretching further than Four thought should have been possible and pulled the blade out of her own shoulder. Blood dripped on the floor but Eight took no notice; instead focused on the battle that they fought on slightly more even ground now she was equally as armed. She tucks the bloody knife away in the waistband of her shorts as the whistle is blown again.

It wasn't long before it was it was Three's turn. Three smiled that conceding smile of hers as the two of them started.

"I heard a rumour..." But before she can finish Eight lashed out.

With an open palm she struck at Three's throat. The laugh burst out of his mouth before he could stifle it.

She stumbled, gasping of breath. Four felt One push past him but he didn't dare enter the square with their father watching on. Eight moved quick to knock Three's feet out from under her and pin her to the ground. The look on One's face told Four that Eight had definitely not just made a friend. She was fitting right in!

It was when it was his turn that he found out that she was funny. He didn't usually do as well as his siblings in combat exercises. Still, he found himself almost instinctively taking up a defensive position and waiting for the girl across from him to make a move.

"What do you do again?" She asked as she began to circle.

He gave a dramatic huff and a wide smile. One's super-strength and Two's knives were hard to miss. Five popped all over the place and Three couldn't go a few days without rumouring something. But him? He just looked crazy talking to people no one else could see. And he didn't do a whole lot of that in front of the others anymore.

"Moi? Oh, you don't have to worry about me, sweet sister. Just the ghost-y's for me."

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at him. Then she was swinging and he was taking a step back and defecting the punch thrown at his ribs and ducking out from the one that was aiming for his head.

"I'm definitely not sweet." She enunciated each syllable, murdering it with an efficiency, not letting up on her relentless almost dance.

He giggled, but it was cut off by a fist landing in his gut, knocking the air out of him for a moment. Staying on his feet, he put distance between them as he straightened.

"Well, you don't seem sour enough. Or particularly bitter." He quipped as he tried to get a kick through her defences.

She jumped over his leg, hooking it with her foot as she regained her balance and knocking his balance out from under him. He landed on his back with an 'oomph' and she quickly followed him, trying to pin him to the ground.

Unfortunately for her he was skinny and squirmy and distinctively difficult to hold down. She hooked her legs over the tops of his thighs and squeezed them with her knees as he bucked to try to roll them both over. Their hands grasped at each other, twisting out of the others grip only to get caught again.

Her lips were pulled tight in concentration as she watched his arms with a slight frown appearing between her eyebrows. He managed to get a foot hold on the floor and pushed them over so he was on top but it only lasted a moment. Her left leg released him and bent backwards at an impossible angle and pushed them back over with a strength she really shouldn't have had.

Four's head hit the floor and for a moment he was dazed. He felt his arms get pushed against the vanished wood of the floor and vaguely heard Seven blow her whistle.

He blinked as the grip around him weakened. She leaned forwards and whispered in his ear.

"I'm ambrosia, baby." Pulling back with a smirk, Eight jumped up and held out a hand to help him off the floor.

He let out a loud mildly winded chuckle as she pulled him up. He took a seat next to Three who was still rubbing her throat and giving Eight dirty looks.

Five took a step into the square a small distance from Eight. Not that distance meant much to Five. Eight rolled her shoulders as she watched her new opponent.

Without warning Five took a step to the side and disappeared in a blue flash. Eight was already turning, spinning on her heel and bending her knees to duck under the punch aimed for where her head had been as Five appeared behind her.

A punch to the diaphragm sent Five back a few steps. He looked as shocked as the rest of them. Then he was jumping again. From place to place quicker than Four had seen him jump before.

Eight half crouched her head swinging back and forth as she tried to track his movements. Then he was in front of her, landing a punch to the face that sent her flying backwards. Her head made a loud cracking noise as she landed.

Eight pushed herself up on her feet, recovering almost as fast as the rest of them did and they had years of training to get their feet back under them to fall back on.

She blinked a bit but Five was already on the move and then so was she. Running erratically around the marked square. Leaping sideways seemingly at random and turning to run back the way she had just come.

When Five ended up jumping into range she launched a furious attack of limbs that Five was forced to pay attention to. He couldn't jump with her so close they were almost touching.

He seemed to decide to do so anyway. The flash of blue light seemed bigger than normal as they both disappeared and tumbled out a few foot away.

"What did you do?" Five asked incredulous as he shoved her off him.

"What did I do?" Eight snorted rolling to her feet. "That wasn't me. You jumped while I was holding on to your arm."

The fight went on till the whistle was blown again but both seemed weary of a repeat of their unexpected jump.

Six stepped forwards, clearly hesitant. He didn't use his powers against his siblings, the monster in his gut was just so much more powerful than any of them. Four leant forwards, worried about what was about to happen.

"Number Eight. You have not been fighting to your full potential." Their father called out in a stern voice.

She looked over at him with a frown.

"I'd kill them." She said simply.

Four felt a shiver run through him. It was the certainty in her voice.

"You needn't hold back with Number Six. Neither will you Number Six." He made a motion and Four and Three hurried to stand on the other side of the room by the wall with the others.

Their Father and Seven stepped back away as well.

Eight's focus shifted to Six. She kicked off one of her shoes and pulled off the other, throwing them at the far wall, all without letting her eyes leave Six. Poor little Six. He didn't want to hurt anyone and now their Father was setting him on the new girl.

Six let out a shaky sigh and began pulled up his shirt. As humongous tentacles filled the space, Four watched Eight.

Her eyes widened as she saw Six showcase his power for the first time. Then she was shifting. Her face seemed to elongate and her teeth grew with it sharpening at the tip until her mouth was full of razor-sharp teeth. Her hands became thicker as four inch long claws erupted. Her feet too, shifted as her big toe moved down her foot becoming something between and toe and a thumb.

And she growled. An actual inhuman growl that hinted to further changes that he couldn't pick out.

She leapt at Six and he swept a tentacle at her to bat her out of the air but he missed and she sailed over his head. She'd hardly landed before she was throwing herself back the way she came and on to Six's back. A tentacle wrapped around her mid-section and threw her across the room. She stumbled but landed on her animal-like feet and avoiding another blow that would have thrown her into the wall.

Eight was quiet. Eight was funny. In that moment, Four realised Eight was also really dangerous.

**Vanya: Number Seven**

**Present Day**

"I guess we should get things started." Luther addressed them as they sat in the living room. "So I figured..."

But Klaus cut him off, making Luther huff.

"Don't you think we should wait until... I don't know, we're all here?"

"Has anyone heard from Eight?" She asked them all.

Luther and Allison shook their heads.

"Yeah," Diego answered. "She said she'd be out of town last month for work. She usually drops in when she gets back."

"Hmmm," Klaus made a noise of agreement. "She wasn't due back till the fifth of April. But she'd come back of this, wouldn't she?"

The familiar pang of loneliness and jealousy at being left out once more rose inside her before falling again. Luther and Allison hadn't known either. Eight and Klaus had gotten closer after Five disappeared and probably more so since Ben.

"We don't know if she's even coming. We should move on." Luther insisted. "So I was thinking we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at Dad's favourite spot."

"Dad had a favourite spot?" Vanya thought that Diego said what they were all thinking.

"You know, under the Oak tree." Luther looked at their blank faces in turn with a confused one of his own. "We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?"

"No, our one-to-one times with Dear Old Dad didn't included lectures on Nietzsche and leadership out in the sunshine." Came the snide reply from the entrance hall.

Turning her head she saw a woman leant in the archway dressed in motorcycle leathers with a black helmet under one arm and a grey duffle bag hanging from the other. She had Olive skin, deep brown eyes and wavy short brown hair, but even before their eyes, her features began to shift and her skin lightened, her hair grew and curled and ran light auburn from root to tip. It was a much cleaner shift than she'd been capable of when they were children.

The outfit her sister was wearing shrunk the two dress sizes with her signalling that she was wearing the suit their Father had made her that shifted with her.

"Eight!" Vanya and Allison greeted almost simultaneously while Klaus leapt up from his lounging position beside her.

"My slippery shifting sister! Decided to join us mere mortals on this oh-so sad day, have you?" A huge smile was spread across his face and he threw his arms open to wrap her in a hug.

She smirked, dropping her bag and leaning over to balance her motorcycle helmet on top of it before moving into Klaus's arms.

"Yeah, I managed to wrap up early." She pulled back to take the rest of them in, raising a sardonic eyebrow. "Didn't start with out me, did yah?"

"Not Really." Klaus clasped her had and pulled her down to sit on the sofa between them but her sister didn't turn to greet her. "We were just deciding whether or not there would be refreshments. Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner."

"What? No we weren't." Luther scowled at losing control of the family meeting. "And put that out." He snapped pointing at the cigarette Klaus had just lit. "Dad didn't allow smoking in here."

Klaus huffed and unfolded his legs, folding them the other way and leaning slightly into Eight. The movement drew Allison's attention.

"Is that my skirt?" She demanded.

"What? Oh yeah, this?" Klaus stood up and posed a bit showing off his new faux leather knee length skirt. "I found it in your room. It's a little dated, I know, but it's very breathy on the bits." He gestured.

"Listen up." Luther commanded pulling attention back to him. "There's still some important things that we need to discuss, all right?"

"Like what?" Diego asked still avoiding looking at her.

She wished her brother wasn't so mad at her. She wished they could go back to when they were friends. Back when he used to stutter and struggle to get a sentence out and he'd get so frustrated and she would just give him a patient smile and wait for him to finish talking. He'd smile back at her and thank her for being a good listener. She didn't even really know when the two of them had grown so far apart. After the academy had fallen apart and they'd all left (apart from Luther), she'd built her semblance of life and so had he. She hadn't seen him for almost two years before she'd even published the book.

"Like the way he died." Luther went on.

"And here we go." Diego muttered loud enough for them all to hear.

"What do you mean?" Eight sat forward with a frown on her face.

"I thought they said it was a heart attack?" Klaus asked as he climbed over the back on the couch and began raiding the bar.

"Yeah, according to the coroner."

"Well, wouldn't they know?" She asked, not sure what Luther was getting at exactly.

"Theoretically." Luther said darkly, clench his fists.

"Theoretically?" Allison repeated flatly.

"I'm just saying, at the very least, something happened. Last time that I talked to Dad, he sounded strange." Luther insisted.

Klaus gargled his drink and climbed back to throw himself back down next to Eight, who elbowed him. "Oh Quelle Surprise!"

"Strange how?" Allison asked from her standing position near the window.

"He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust."

"He said the same thing to me but he was always like that." Eight snorted before putting their father's voice. "You must be the Lion and the Fox, Number Eight. You must watch for the traps they lay and not just the wolves themselves."

Vanya felt the hairs on the back of her neck and her arms stand on edge. Klaus gave an exaggerated shudder.

"Don't do that! The ol' man's dead, I don't want to hear his voice again." He took a long gulp of his drink.

Luther shot Klaus a glare. "Look, I know you don't like doing it, but I need you to talk to Dad."

He scoffed into his drink before pulling it away and gesturing wildly. "I can't just call Dad in the afterlife and be like, 'Dad, could you just like... Stop playing golf with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?'"

Eight snorted next to her.

"Since when? That's you're thing." Luther asked standing up and shaking his head.

"Well, that just shows you how little you notice what's going on around you." Eight muttered besides her, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not in the right frame of mind." Klaus hedged.

"You're high!" Luther accused.

Vanya didn't find that as surprising as Luther seemed to find it. Most of the time, it seemed like Klaus had been high since they were fourteen and the older they got the worse his problem became.

Her brother just laughed.

"Yeah! Yeah, I mean, how can you not, listening to this nonsense?"

"Well sober up. This is important." Luther said raising his voice.

"Oh yeah. He's just going to do that." Eight snorted getting to her feet too. "Number One commands it so."

"And there's the issue of the missing monocle." Luther carried on, dismissing Eight.

Klaus huffed with a dramatic wave of his hands. "Who care about a stupid monocle?"

"Exactly." Luther charged on trying to convince them. "It's worthless. So whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge."

Vanya frowned. Dr Terminal and the Eiffel Tower guy and all the other bad guys were either dead or... In jail? She didn't know. Dad had always handled the clean up without any the rest of them.

She looked to Eight and saw that the frown on her face had deepened, her eyes were sharp and the edge of her lips were beginning to tilt down in distaste. She was angry. Really angry.

"Where are you going with this?" Klaus asked.

"Oh, isn't it obvious, Klaus?" Diego jumped in obviously having come to whatever conclusions Eight had, and got in Luther's face. "He thinks one of us killed Dad."

Vanya drew in a shallow shocked breath, blinking at her brother. Luther subtly bit his bottom lip for a moment before raising his head slightly and pushing out his chest. How could Luther really think one of them had murdered their father?

The silence sat heavy between them for a long moment as everyone stared in disbelief.

"You do?" Klaus downed the last of his drink putting the glass down on the coffee table that sat between them.

"How could you think that?" Vanya shook her head.

"Great job Luther. Way to lead." Diego said giving one last dig.

"Fucking idiot." Eight bit out, baring her teeth at him before sweeping out of the room.

"That's not what I'm saying." Luther tried.

"You're crazy, man. Crazy." Klaus got up to follow Eight muttering to himself. "Crazy."

"I'm not finished." Luther called after them.

"Sorry, I'm just off to go murder Mom. Be right back." Klaus chirped, dropping his cigarette butt in the last dredges of his drink.

Vanya got up and followed him not wanting to look at Luther any longer.

"That's not what I'm saying." She heard him insist behind her. "Allison!"

**Eight: Number Eight**

**Four Days Earlier,**

**Venice, Italy**

The face she was wearing was that of Rochelle De La Cruz, nineteen year old heiress known for living it up on her yacht with Daddy's money and two hundred of her closest friends. Her face was well known enough that it got her into the casino floor of the club but not enough that people wondered how she could be in two places at once.

Her blonde hair was up in an elaborate style kept in place by a diamond tiara and a sapphire butterfly hair clip. Her evening dress, which wasn't an actual dress but a specially designed nanotech-fibre suit that responded to a marginally telepathic sensor her father had implanted sub-dermally behind her left ear, matched the sapphires in colour.

She sipped a dry martini as she subtly watched the floor behind her using the refection from the mirrored wall behind the bar she sat at. Her target sat in a booth on the opposite side of the club having just sat down after losing three grand at Blackjack. Not that that was slowing him down.

He ordered another bottle of champagne that his 'girlfriends' had finished while he was gambling. He then took a bump of cocaine off the table that Bimbo One had set out for him.

She'd been following her target for over three weeks. Followed him from the house he shared with his wife and kids to each of his shady business deals. He was mafia but that wasn't really the problem. There were always going to be bad people in the world, she didn't follow all of them.

But this guy. His guy had recently decided to break out from his Familia and right into bioweaponry. That was what had pinged him on Hargreaves' radar.

In the briefcase left almost carelessly on the floor under his table were three vials of pathogen 3.64-NZV. It was nasty. She'd broken in to the lab it had been stolen from and read the file. If the case leaked everyone in the room was going to start crying blood and then about twenty minutes later, enough time for everyone to panic, they'd start having breathing problems that would turn into choking to death on their own liquefied lungs.

She didn't just want the briefcase though. Because from what she could tell, this guy was about to make a whole lot of money and then turn around and use it to fund another break in at another lab. Because he was both Greedy and Stupid. He needed to be removed from the situation.

Her target downed another flute of champagne and began to get up. He gestured towards the toilets. She was going to wait for him to come back, eventually leave and follow him to the meet but it was then that her attention was drawn to the small television set that hung in one corner of the bar.

Reclusive and Eccentric Billionaire, Sir Reginald Hargreaves, found dead in his mansion. Founder of the Umbrella Academy dies of a Heart-attack at Sixty-Four. The newsreel read in Italian.

That changed things.

Standing up, she wavered as if trying to find her balance. She made her way to the loos, stumbling into the one marked male.

"Opps." She gave an intoxicated giggle.

Her target stood up against the urinal, reliving himself. She stumbled again giggling some more, leaning back against the door and subtly locking it behind her back.

He turned around as he zipped up. He frowned momentarily before turning on the charm and giving her a smile. She wobbled forwards to get a better angle on the stalls. They were empty. They were alone.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?" He asked as he stepped into her personal space.

She batted her eyes lids, slightly too slowly, subtly shifting so her eyes looked dazed and sluggish without actually effecting her sight. "You think I'm pretty? I think you're pretty too."

She pressed into his chest, running a finger down the buttons on his shirt.

"Do you want to show me how pretty I am?" She asked.

She didn't need subtle with him, he was high as hell and convinced he was gods gift, invincible. Of course every woman wanted to fuck him in bathroom stalls.

He nodded as she pushed him back into the disabled stall. He was already reaching down to undo his belt. As he looked down, she elongated the nail on her right finger, making it hard as bone and sharp enough to pierce. In a single lightening quick movement she had plunged her nail into his ear drum and through to his brain.

His eyes rolled back into his head. As he slumped, she caught him and pushed him back so he sat on the toilet. There was only a trickle of blood that dripped out his ear and down the side of his neck. Unless the coroner looked really hard it would look like a brain aneurysm. Clean, efficient.

She shifted into her targets appearance before closing the door and stretching her arm over the top to lock it with the man's own hand. She washed her hands, checking her appearance in the mirror.

Her dress was now a suit. Her female body now male. She plucked the tiara and clip off her head and put them in her pocket.

She unlocked the door and made her way over to her ex-targets table.

"Sorry ladies." She mimed a phone with one hand, speaking with his exact voice. "I've got to be going. Enjoy the bottle. Ciao"

She picked up the briefcase and left the club without a backwards glance. She'd change appearances in an alley or side street as soon as she could before making her way back to her hotel. She had to move her flight. She had a funeral to go to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals.**

**Seventeen Years Earlier.**

"In five, four, three, two... This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for Channel 2 News outside of the Capital West bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown number of hostages." The news reporter said as he stood among the crowd gathered beyond the police lines.

Inside the bank, the Umbrella Academy converged on the gunmen. It was their first real mission out in the open. Eight, Klaus and Ben had come in through the east exit and had made sure a path was clear for the hostages to be released through.

Eight poked her head around the corner first. Klaus leaned around her as well, one hand pressed to the centre of her back so she knew where he was. Ben peered around their shoulders.

Allison and Diego were just entering the main floor of the bank from the opposite corridor, still partially hidden from view. Luther was on the roof and was due to drop in at any moment and Five was no where to be seen.

"Get them behind the counter." A man gestured to a few lose hostages his comrade was trying to carrell. "Now you've put me in a position where I gotta do something I don't want to do."

The leader of the bank robbers was shouting into the walkie-talkie gesturing with the automatic machinegun in his other hand. Allison skipped up from behind him to stand next to him.

"Shit!" He exclaimed as he saw her. "Hey, get back with the others!"

"I heard a rumour." Allison said with a grin.

"What? What did you say?"

She lifted a hand to her mouth and leant in as if to tell him a secret. The man leant in almost automatically.

"I heard a rumour that you shot your friend in the foot." And she leant back as her power took hold and he turned from her, lifting his gun arm and aiming it at his friend.

"Hey, Dude! What the Hell?" The other gunman managed to say before he was shot in the foot, knocking him to the floor and sending a spray of bullets up the wall and narrowly missing the hostages that coward close by.

Outside people screamed and police officers readied their weapons at the sound of gun fire echoing out of the building.

"We just heard shots from inside the bank." Jim Hellerman reported. "It's uncertain if any hostages have been harmed."

"Up there!" Someone from the crowd shouted, pointing to the top of the bank as someone flashed by.

"There's some movement on the roof. Possibly law enforcement."

Luther crashed through the glass ceiling landing directly on top of one of the gunmen, neutralizing him. He leapt over the counter punching another before throwing him through the high window.

Then Diego was running in.

"Guns are for sissies!" He quipped. "Real men throw knives."

As he launched two of his knives at one of the gunmen, Eight turned her head to share a quick smile with her brothers over Diego. The three of them moved in, putting themselves between the hostages and the on-going fight.

Five appeared next to Allison and Diego as they taunted the last bad guy on the floor.

"Get back you freaks." He stood on the counter erratically moving his gun from one of them to another.

"Hey, be careful up there, Buddy." Diego laughed.

"Wouldn't want you to get hurt." Allison joined in.

"Get back!"

Five teleported so he was sitting on the counter next to the man. "Or what?"

He was gone before the man started shooting but that didn't stop him emptying his clip into the empty space. Five appeared standing next to him on the other side. As he turned , Five grabbed his gun, jumped then jumped back and almost quicker than the eye could see he had switched the gun in the mans hand for a stapler.

"Ooh! That one badass stapler!" He joked and Eight snorted.

Five looked over to where she was standing with her arms across her chest. He smirked and she smirked back. Then he turned to deal with the guy as Eight heard a noise. Turning she saw a man aiming his gun at the back of Klaus who stood behind her.

She leapt, knocking Klaus off his feet as bullets rained over their heads. Then she was jumping again, her claws forming mid-air. She slashed at the guys throat with a growl, teeth bared. He was dead before the two of them hit the ground.

She straightened, seeing the rest had the floor under control she took a step towards the hostages. Klaus was back on his feet and he nodded at her in thanks as she caught his eye. Putting her hands behind her back to hide the blood from view.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if you'll leave via the east exit you'll find the doors unlocked and you're way clear." She had adopted her kindest reassuring smile.

Most took off running but a few were slower and she nodded encouragement at them.

Eight turned to find the Umbrella Academy in a loose semi-circle around the entrance to the vault.

"Do I really have to do this?" Ben asked as he stood in front of the door facing his siblings.

"Come on, Ben." Luther insisted. "There's more guys in the vault."

Ben sighed as she drew closer, his shoulders slumped.

"I didn't sign up for this." He mumbled.

He closed the door behind him and as the noises of the dying began Eight stepped closer to the door and cracked it open an inch to watch. As she saw him pull his shirt back in place she slipped into the room.

Grabbing a box of tissues off the side, she pulled out a handful and began wiping the gore from his face. She ignored their surroundings, Eight had grown used to the smell and sight of men ripped to pieces.

"I think we should have celebratory pancakes after this." She said in a low voice.

He looked up at her with what she was sure would be big eyes if he wasn't wearing the mask. "I just want to go home."

She nodded and moved from his almost clean face to his hands. At least he wasn't dripping anymore.

Once they're all together again they head out to stand on the steps that lead up to the bank just like their father had told them to. They stand in order and Eight leans into Ben's side.

"Smile a little, remember." She whispered into his ear. "Try to look like you want to be here."

**Allison: Number Three**

**Present Day**

Her bedroom was exactly as she had left it all those years ago. She could tell that Mom had been in there, probably regularly, to clean as there wasn't even a thin layer of dust. The bathrobe she had grown out of but not thrown away still hung behind the door. Glossy magazines fifthteen years or older still sat in front of the vanity. Old costume jewellery hung from the open jewellery box.

The necklace Luther bought her hung there aswell. In the middle of the thin gold chain a heart sat, engraved with the letters A+L. Allison and Luther. She'd told him she would never take it off. It was a promise broken almost as soon as she'd made it.

And now he was accusing one of them of killing their Dad. She could tell he'd meant it as well. It didn't matter how much time had passed between them, she would always know Luther. He really thought one of them had done it. Probably not her, but the others. Their brothers. And Vanya.

She slumped in the chair and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She didn't look much different from the last time he had look in it. Older, of course, and her hair was different. Her Father would never have let her dye her hair. But not that much different.

She felt different though. She had lived a life away from the Academy. She was a mother now. Not a very good mother maybe. She'd made mistakes but she was fighting to make up for them. To see her little girl again. She really didn't need the added family drama of her father's mysterious (or maybe not) death on top.

Allison could hear Luther moving about in his room next door. She'd always been able to hear him, subtlety had never been Luther's strong suit and now he'd finished growing it was only worse. He really was huge.

Then she heard the familiar hiss of the record player being turned on. A familiar beat thumped through the walls.

_**#Children behave, that's what they say when we're together**_

_**And watch how you play**_

_**They don't understand**_

_**And so we're#**_

_**#Running just as fast as we can, holding on to one another hands**_

_**Trying to get away into the night and then you put your arms around me**_

_**And we tumble to the ground and then you say#**_

She couldn't help but smile. They'd all loved this song when it came out. It was like them in a way. Dad telling them to stand still and do as they were told and the rest of them sneaking about, trying to scrap out some normality.

_**#I think we're alone now,**_

_**There doesn't seem to be anyone around**_

_**I think we're alone now,**_

_**The beating of our hearts is the only sound#**_

_**#Look at the way we gotta hide what we're doin'**_

_**'Cause what would they say**_

_**If they ever knew**_

_**And so we're#**_

_**#Running just as fast as we can, holding on to one another hands**_

_**Trying to get away into the night and then you put your arms around me**_

_**And we tumble to the ground and then you say#**_

She was almost reluctantly out of her seat and reaching for the feather boa that hung behind her door before she knew it. She was swaying already as she wrapped it around her neck. As it picked up she was really dancing. Remembering dancing and spinning and laughing to the song with Luther and the rest; even Vanya had been there. Stuffing themselves full of donuts and laughter and a hint of freedom.

_**#I think we're alone now,**_

_**There doesn't seem to be anyone around**_

_**I think we're alone now,**_

_**The beating of our hearts is the only sound#**_

_**#I think we're alone now,**_

_**There doesn't seem to be anyone around**_

_**I think we're alone now,**_

_**The beating of our hearts is the only sound#**_

_**#Running just as fast as we can, holding on to one another hands**_

_**Trying to get away into the night and then you put your arms around me**_

_**And we tumble to the ground and then you say#**_

Then the track jumped and cut off. A gust of wind seemed to sweep through the room and her necklace went flying, impaling itself in the wall, by something that definitely wasn't the wind.

Allison was scrambling off her bed and reaching for the door. Luther appeared from behind his own door as she got hers open. Their eyes met of a moment like they had done a thousand times before every time the bell went off to signal another mission.

Then they were both running down the corridor to figure out what the hell was going on. The noise got louder as they ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. Klaus was there, holding the urn that contained their father to his chest, with wide eyes. Diego, Eight and Vanya were in the door way leading from the front of the house. All of them paused to look towards the doors that open up into the courtyard. They were straining in the doorway, held only by the reinforced hinges that got added to most of the doors once Luther started to break them when he opened doors a little to quickly.

Luther moved first and Diego was quick to follow him. She was on their heels and Allison could hear her sisters behind her. It took a moment to force the door open and then they are all looking up at a bright blue portal-y thing that was whipping the air around them and blowing leaves up into the air.

"What is it?" Vanya asked over the howling wind.

"Don't get too close." She told the boys as they both stepped closer.

"Yeah, no shit." Diego gripped.

"Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly." Luther shouted to them. "Either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two."

She heard Eight mutter a sarcastic, "Really?" as Diego helpfully added, "Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan."

The mass of energy seemed to grow slightly and pulse; the wind picked up around them and Allison found herself reaching out a hand to Luther's back. Then Klaus joined them.

"Out of the way!" he screamed from behind them and they all turned slightly and parted so he could run through them- with a fire extinguisher?

"What are you-?" Luther tried to grab his brother as he ran past but missed.

Klaus 'extinguished' the energy to little affect and whether the can was low to begin with or whether Klaus didn't know how to use it, that didn't even last long. He soon threw the thing into the portal.

"What is that going to do?" She asked as they all pulled him back behind them.

"I don't know. Do you have a better idea?" He said slightly indignant but mostly sounding hysterical.

Electricity started to crackled around the edge of the swirling blue disk in the air. They all started taking a step back. The hand she had grasped in the back of Luther's coat shifted and she felt his hand clasp hers.

"Woah, woah, woah!" He exclaimed. "Everybody get behind me."

"Yeah, get behind us." Diego chimed in, putting himself next to Luther and she couldn't help but huff; this wasn't the time.

Luther looked to her and her hand that was clinging to his own. Vanya stood just behind Diego and Klaus and Allison could feel Eight at her back probably battle ready.

"I vote for running, c'mon." Klaus shouted to them but they took no notice and it seemed he didn't want to run without them.

Something was happening in the middle of the blue light. A figure. A man. Allison squinted as it brightened and pulsed again launching sparks all over the place. Luther's hand tightened around hers.

Then a person dropped out of the sky and the energy quickly dissipated as if it had never been there. They crept forward as a unit and she heard Eight stumble behind her. It was enough to draw her attention from the mystery figure for a moment and she turned to see Eight's eyes wide and disbelieving.

Turning back, she saw the man was small. And not a man, a boy. A boy with brown hair. As he picked himself up she saw his oversized suit and then. And then she saw his face. Blue eyes, square jaw, wide mouth, an almost perpetual scowl.

Five.

It was Five.

"Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?" Asked Klaus.

He looked at them then, his eyes breezing over each of them momentarily before he was looking down at himself.

"Shit."

**Five: Number Five**

He was back. He was thirteen but he was back. He was telling himself at that moment that it was a minor issue. He still had all his memories and experience and training. It didn't matter that his body was smaller and softer and somewhat unfamiliar. He could still complete his mission.

His siblings stood around him with faces slack from shock.

He felt a bit shocked as well but he had already pushed that to one side. He was always the best at compartmentalisation and he had only gotten better at it since he last stood in the Academy.

He was also trying not to think about the last time he saw some of the faces in front of him. Because that wasn't before he'd left, when they were children, but when he had tried and failed to bury them.

Luther so large and under so much rubble, clutching the eye that was now in his pocket so hard, it had sent his hand into instant rigour upon his death. Allison so pretty even when she was broken and covered in ash. Diego, knife in hand, with old scars Five didn't know the story behind. Klaus almost unrecognisable that it was only the Umbrella tattoo on his wrist, that matched his own, that he knew for sure it was him.

When he hadn't found the others, he had hoped. Hoped maybe they had found a way to survive. But only for a week or so. There had been no one.

Then he'd found Vanya's book, with her picture printed on the back, full of time he hadn't been with his siblings. Telling him that Ben wasn't there because Ben was dead. Not dead like everyone else but long dead.

He'd wondered what Eight looked like grown up. Tried to picture it a thousand times but it was hard to pin down what a shape-shifter could look like when the answer could be anything. He'd thought it possible she might have grown bored of the face she had shown up at the Academy with. But she clearly hadn't.

Eight still had a head full of auburn curls, a little shorter than she's kept it when they were children but not by much. Her face was slightly more ovular, her nose slightly longer, her lips slightly fuller, her cheekbones more angular. But that was all mostly age. She still had freckles that covered her face down to sit across her shoulders and chest. Still had eyes such a dark blue that they appeared black from a distance but he knew they had tiny lilac lightening shaped streaks going through them that would reflect back the light like a cat if it caught them just right. She still moved gracefully, silently but there was an edge of deadly that you could only really pick up if you were deadly yourself, that he was sure hadn't been there when they were children.

He'd always wondered what had happened to them. Eight and Vanya. His favourites. Were they there, just buried too deep under the rubble of the Academy for him to dig? Had they been somewhere else when everything went down?

He would never know, he vowed to himself. Because it would all be different. He was back. He was back and he would change it all. He'd fix everything. His family would live. As much of it as it could.

"What's the date? The exact date?" He asked as he laid out a cutting board and a knife on the table.

They all stood around the other end of the table, except Klaus who sat on it.

"The 24th." Vanya answered and he'd already begun rolling his eyes and preparing to snap when Eight cut through.

"Of March. Year?"

He almost smiled. Of course, Eight could keep up. She was the only one of them who ever really could. But he shook his head because he knew he had that right.

"Good." He said instead.

That meant he had eight days. Eight days was enough. It would have to be enough.

"So are we gonna talk about what just happened?" Luther demanded in predictable fashion but Five ignored him; he didn't have to explain himself. "It's been seventeen years."

Luther stood in his way as he went to get the bread. Five just sneered at him.

"It's been a lot longer than that." Then he jumped to the counter making Luther flinch before jumping back.

"I haven't missed that." He muttered.

"Where'd you go?"

"The future." Five walked over to the fridge looking for the peanut butter. "It's shit by the way."

"Called it!" Klaus exclaimed.

"I should've listened to the old man." Once upon a time, saying that would have brought bile up into his mouth but he had had a long time to accept he made a mistake; a huge motherfucking mistake. "You know, jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice. Nice dress."

He was not sure why he said it. He'd thought it then it was out of his mouth. He would have to watch that. He had been alone with only Delores for too long. There were other people to hear him now.

"Oh, well danke." Klaus said, seemingly pleased as he swished a tassel at him.

"Wait, how did you get back?" Vanya asked.

"In the end, I had to project my consciousness forwards into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time."

It was the most straight forwards way of explaining it without going into calculations that none of them would understand.

"That makes no sense." Diego frowned.

"Well, it would if you were smarter." He sniped because what he said made perfect sense.

Diego made to stand up but Luther held him back. It was almost as if no time had passed at all.

"How long were you there?" Vanya asked probably trying to distract from the fight Diego seemed to want to pick.

"Forty-Five years." He spread the peanut butter out, thick and even. "Give or take."

There were days he missed to unconsciousness and he was never sure how much time had passed. Or that time he'd had a really bad fever, he hadn't been able to keep track of the days. He couldn't have lost years but forty-five, forty-six, in context, what did it matter?

The rest of them seemed to sink into themselves as they began to understand.

"So what are you saying?" Luther said slowly like he couldn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

Five sighed. He wasn't sure how much simpler he could really lay it out.

"That you're fifty-eight?" He finished.

"No, my consciousness is fifty-eight." He snapped, finishing his sandwich and adding the marshmallows. "Apparently my body is thirteen again."

"Wait, how does that even work?"

"Delores kept saying the equations were off." He muttered more to himself than the others but he was probably too loud.

"Are you sure?" Eight pipped up. "When you left you were thirteen. When you landed at whatever point in the future you would have been thirteen. Now, between those points, maybe the only 'state' you could be in was thirteen."

He nodded because it was a possibility as he took a bite of his sandwich. He hadn't had one in so long, it was like heaven but he restrained from showing it. It was still a possibility he had messed up. They were complex calculations and he'd created some of the math himself. It seemed to work though. He was here after all.

A newspaper sat next to him with his father's face plastered across it. City Says Goodbye To Reginald Hargreaves the headline read.

"Guess, I missed the funeral." He said with his mouth full, picking it up with his other hand.

"How do you know about that?" Luther asked half an accusation in his voice.

He saw Eight roll her eyes in clear exasperation as Five was sneering at him.

"What part of the future do you not understand?" How could anyone be that dumb and still qualify as a human being? "Heart failure, huh?"

"Yeah" Diego agreed.

"No." Luther cut in.

The others didn't say anything either way and Eight shrugged like it didn't matter. It really didn't. The old man was dead, he couldn't interfere with any of Five's plans. He made a clicking noise with his tongue.

"Well, it's good to see nothing's changed." He turned and started heading up the stairs taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Uh, that's it? That's all you have to say?" Allison called after him.

"What is there to say? The circle of life." He called back.

He could hear footsteps behind him, so slight he almost missed them and he got the feeling he only heard them at all because she wanted him to. She didn't say anything so he didn't either.

He finished the sandwich just as he pushed open the door to his old room. It's exactly as he left it. Someone had preserved it. It was almost comforting, almost eerie. The Academy didn't feel like home, he had been away too long, but finding his room as he left it gave him a wave of nostalgia that he quickly pushed aside barely pausing in the doorway.

He needed to change. His trousers were being held up by his butt and his tucked in shirt. The blazer that had fit him perfectly well an hour ago now hung off him maybe three or four sizes too big.

The springs in his mattress creaked as he opened the door to his wardrobe. Eight had sat down behind him. It had been a long time since he let someone sit so casually behind him and felt so relaxed about it.

Inside there were only his uniforms. About twelve of them, all identical. He moved one aside with a sigh.

"Ah, shit." He was going to have to wear one, nothing else would fit.

"I can give you some money until whatever the old man left you gets sorted." Eight said.

He nodded in thanks and pulled out one of the suits and turned to lay in on the bed next to her. When he was thirteen he probably would have baulked at changing in front of Eight. But now, as he shirked off the blazar and let it fall to the floor, loosening his tie, he found he didn't give a shit.

There was an odd dissonance with his body. He was old and his back hurt and he had a scar over his left knee from where he had travelled to assassinate King Louis XII. He had a moustache and his hair had gone grey a while back.

But now he wasn't wrinkled and scarred. He was weirdly young and he wasn't sore and his joints weren't aching. His hair was cropped and didn't hang around his ears. He'd lost at least half a foot in height, maybe more.

He wondered if that was how Eight felt. A consciousness in a body instead of a person with a body and mind of there own, barely divisible.

Even his boxers were too big and he kicked them off, marching over to his draw to get a pair that would fit.

"I could tell you were older before you said it." She said as he pulled the boxers on and walked back to her to pull on a pair of shorts. "You look older. It's more in the way you move. And your eyes. I could tell a lot of time had passed for you."

Eight had always been perceptive like that. He'd forgotten. It made him freeze as he was doing up his belt. He worried for moment that she could see it all. The years, decades of isolation and desperation and determination. All the people he killed. Everything he did to get home. To get back to them. So he could save them.

But he forced his fingers to complete their task. Then he grabbed the shirt and threw it round his shoulders, putting his arms through the sleeves and buttoning up the front. The blazar followed and it felt so familiar. The weight, the cut.

He'd worn a suit like this one for years. When they had grown out of them, their father had just called a tailor in to make new ones in their sizes.

"Luther wants to spread his ashes in the courtyard at sunset." She hadn't taken her eyes off him the entire time and they were beginning to add to the full body itch that accompanied time travel. "Under the tree out there. Supposedly it was his favourite spot. I think it's just Luther's favourite spot with the old man but I don't really give a shit where they put him."

Five snorted as he straightened his tie. He did remember and had actually missed Eight's sarcastic commentary on their family.

"I don't think Hargreaves would have cared much either as long as it was respectful. He wouldn't have been happy if we flushed him like a goldfish or something." She smirked then.

That drew a laugh out of him as he imagined the two of them jumping down stairs to steal their fathers ashes. It was juvenile but it was something they might have actually done when they were thirteen.

He looked at her, returning her stare for a moment. She looked younger than their siblings. She'd probably decided to stop aging at around twenty two, twenty three.

She tilted her head as she assessed him with her familiar and unique eyes. Taking him in as he did the same to her. She's wearing biking leathers and heavy boots with stainless steel buckles, that make him wonder how she could be so quiet. The jacket is unzipped revealing a forest green tank top with a square front. It's not something he had pictured her wearing but at the same time very her.

"Somehow I don't think this Memorial, or whatever you want to call it, is going to end up being all that respectful." She continued as if they hadn't paused to stare at each other in the middle.

He sighed.

"Is it really that bad?" Because Eight was one for an understatement and he could read it in her tone.

She gives a half shrug and a dismissive wave of her hand.

"It's been years since we've been all together and I don't mean you. Luther's been on the moon for the past four years. Allison's been in LA with her husband, now ex- and her kid. Diego does his batman thing, since he got kicked out of the police academy. I see Klaus now and then but I spend a lot of time out of the country. Vanya's got a place not too far away."

Her nose crinkled lightly and her lips angle down in distaste that she was trying not to show as she talked about Vanya. It was the book, it had to be.

He wanted to ask. Vanya had said somethings that had given him questions. And it wasn't just about things from after he left, but things that had been going on before that, that he'd missed somehow.

This wasn't the moment though so he let it slide.

"I'll be there." He said instead.

She was shorter than him when she was sitting like that. She had slouched slightly to one side looking completely relaxed on his childhood bed. Her lip curved up slightly every time she looked at him. She was pleased to see him.

"Are you going to change?" He wasn't wearing black; he had little choice, but Eight might have clothes here more appropriate for a memorial service.

Her smirk grew wider and he watched as her leather jacket/trouser combo shifted into fitted black corduroy trousers, a black shirt with a high collar and a black bow-tie with small grey spots, a black corduroy waistcoat and a knee length leather duster. The boots stayed the same with the trouser tucked neatly into them.

"What do you think?"

Vanya had mentioned a suit that shifted with Eight but it had been invented after he left. He'd never seen it. It was a marvel, the shift was liquid and smoother than Eight could manage with her own body before he left but he didn't doubt for a moment that she had gotten that good as well.

"Elegant." He said. "But you still look like a goth clown."

She laughed, high and melodic. He had forgotten how she laughed, especially that one, which only happened when you surprised it out of her. He suddenly remembered other times he'd made her laugh, some of them in the room they were in now.

"It's smart enough so Luther won't bat an eye, but out there enough that Hargreaves would have told me I looked like a fool. I quite like it." She gave off a superior air.

Eight looked away from him and to the window.

"It's almost time. I should go check on Klaus. Make sure he's not... Well up to anything he shouldn't be." He could tell she didn't want to go but she wanted to give him a moment to breath.

Five nodded. He let her get off the bed and close the door behind her.

He couldn't hear her footsteps after the door closed but he didn't doubt that she'd gone. He did take a long breath. He looked down at the rumpled suit on the floor.

He had eight days. He could spare the time to go to his father's memorial and figure out how to tell his family that the world was going to end in eight days.

Five decided to walk down the stairs and give the house a walk through in case anything had changed. He would probably be staying there, so he wanted the lay of the land.

The hall was the same. The pictures themselves had aged around the edges but they were still there, depicting how to gouge a man's eye out and the best way to land an elbow to the throat. He didn't take the stairs that led back to the kitchen instead carrying on walking and taking the main staircase to the foyer.

Vanya was standing in the living room, looking up a painting of himself. It was Eight's work, he could tell. The same way he could tell Father had commissioned it and told her exactly what he wanted.

"Nice to know Dad didn't forget me." He said and she jumped, turning to look at him and pulling him into a brief hug. "I read your book by the way. Found it in a library that was still standing."

He gave her a moment to say something but she didn't. Vanya wasn't much taller than him. Only half and inch or so.

"I thought it was pretty good, all things considered." He'd clung to it like a lifeline. "Yeah, definitely ballsy, giving up the family secrets. I'm sure that went over well."

Even if he hadn't already spoken to Eight, he known. She'd really put it all in there. Told the general public about their training, about their cold father who treated them more like experiments than children. She'd pointed out how it had all effected each of their siblings in detrimental ways. Told the world about Klaus and the drugs, Luther and his inability to do anything other than what Dad said. The people Ben and Eight had killed.

"They hate me."

He was not really sure what she had been expecting from publishing the book if not cause untold problems between a particularly dysfunctional family like their own. She hadn't even spared Diego or Ben and he'd thought she liked them more than the others.

"Oh, there are worse things that can happen." They could be dead at her feet.

"You mean what happened to Ben?" She asked.

He took his eyes off the portrait of himself and turned to look at her. Greif lingered in the big brown eyes as she looked at him.

"Was it bad?"

Vanya just nodded.

**Eight: Number Eight**

It had started raining by the time the sun was setting. They'd all managed to scrounge up umbrellas and they headed out to the courtyard.

Diego stood next to the robot, letting the rain run down his face, dressed in his vigilante get up. Allison stood next to him, with Five then Klaus then her. Vanya stood on the other side with Pogo. Luther was standing across from them with the urn in his hands.

She didn't let her eyes stray to the statue of Ben off to her left. It didn't look anything like him and she didn't want to think about his funeral while they were spreading the old man's ashes. It was his fault after all.

Eight had been trying to be blasé about his death but part of her brain was asking itself what she was going to do now? She may have left the Academy years ago but she'd never truly left Hargreaves. She'd still run missions for him. He'd pointed her to information to steal, organisations to infiltrate, people to kill. She was Number Eight, spy and assassin and if Hargreaves had been anything to her it had been a handler.

She would get a call and off she'd go with a different face and fake passport to foreign countries with a mission and purpose. She needed to route around the old man's things. He had to have a black book full of contacts and ways they got in contact with him. She could probably take over his network and work for herself.

She probably would have gotten started on that already if it weren't for Five's miraculous return.

She side eyed him around Klaus and his little, plastic umbrella with a pink edge. He looked almost the same as he had the day he left but at the same time something about him screamed age and experience that hadn't been there before. She could easily believe he was an old man now no matter what his smooth cheeks may indicate.

Klaus and Ben had always been good friends. Vanya and Diego had spent a lot of time together and of course Luther and Allison had been practically joined at the hip. Five had been hers. Her equal, in brains and humour and temperament. When they'd been paired together for training exercises they had wiped the floor with the rest of them. They'd been too fast, too in sync, too deadly.

It had been the most fun she'd had in her life.

After he'd left, she'd hung around with Ben and Klaus mostly and then just Klaus. Ben had been smart enough and Klaus was funny enough but they hadn't been Five. They hadn't seen the world quite like she had.

Of course, quite a lot of time had passed between the two of them. She wasn't thirteen anymore and she had changed since she was. Five had been gone even longer from his perspective. Eight wasn't sure how well they'd get on now. If it would be possible to get back in sync.

She'd done a lot of morally ambiguous things since Five had left. And some that weren't so ambiguous and were probably, from most points of view, very obviously wrong. She didn't know how Five would react when he found out. Hargreaves had always been pretty grey when it came to right and wrong, he had been the one to encourage her to kill, but Five had spent a life time away and had been youngish when he left. He had had plenty of time to re-examine his personal philosophy and choose something more culturally acceptable.

She wasn't sure what she would do if Five turned a look of utter disgust in her direction.

Which was stupid. She didn't generally care what people thought of her. She didn't generally care for people full stop. Eight was too different from people. She was too other.

"Did something happen?" The robot cut through her thoughts.

"Dad died, remember?" Allison said slowly as if explaining to a child.

"Oh. Yes, of course." Was the only response they received as it began staring into the middle distance.

The robot had always given her the creeps but when ever she'd ever said anything, It had been staunchly defended by the others. They had emotionally bonded to the machine that stood in for a mother figure as they were growing up. She'd never been able to trick herself into thinking it a person for even a moment, it smelt weird, just synthetic.

This, however, was a new level of weird.

"Is Mom okay?" Allison asked, looking to Diego.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine." He edged minutely closer to the robot. "She just needs rest. You know, recharge."

Eight already knew she was going to keep a closer eye on it while she was there. If the robot was broken, she wanted to know about it, because only god knew what it could do.

The rest of them paused but dismissed it.

"Whenever you're ready, Dear boy." Pogo nodded to Luther.

He took a deep breath, looking at the urn in his hands of a moment. Then he took off the lid and turned it over. Hargreaves's ashes fell out in a small pile. Eight was no expert but she was sure that a full grown man would have produced more ashes than that. She was about to say something when she caught sight of Klaus. He was opening it tin of pre-rolled cigarettes with a particularly guilty look on his face, so she decided to let it go.

"Probably would have been better with a bit of wind." Luther said as he looked up at the rest of them.

She snorted, shaking her head and pulled out a joint she had rolled after she had left Five. She stole Klaus's lighter, drawing his attention. She lifted her umbrella so it sat over the top of Klaus's and leant into his side.

"Does anyone wish to speak?" Pogo spoke up, leaning heavier on his walking stick than he usually did.

After two quick puffs and one long one, she waved it slightly in front of Klaus's face.

"Don't mind if I do." Klaus muttered, taking it from her.

They'd need it if what she thought was going to happen, happened. Pogo looked to each of them, with particular disapproval in her and Klaus's direction.

"Very well." He took a deep breath.

Pogo was even more devoted to Hargreaves than Luther was. She felt a bit sorry for him in all honesty. He had been an animal. A lower being with a lower beings view on the world. Then Hargreaves had got at him. She didn't know what he did but Pogo was sentient. He felt he owed his existence to Hargreaves and in some ways he did but she didn't think the Old Man had cared for him anymore than he did any of his other experiments.

And what would Pogo do now Hargreaves was gone?

"In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreaves made me what I am today. For that alone I shall forever be in his debt." His hand curled on his cane and his voice wobbled minutely. "He was my master and my friend, and I shall miss him very much."

Eight took the joint back from Klaus. As she brought it to her lips, she caught a glimpse of Five passed Klaus's chest. His nose was wrinkled as he watched her smoke. It was almost funny and she had to stop herself laughing at him. Five wouldn't appreciate it.

"He leaves behind a complicated legacy-" Pogo carried on only to be interrupted by Diego.

"He was a monster."

A giggle burst out of Klaus and he struggled to stifle it. Here they went. She'd known the day wouldn't pass without fireworks. She almost couldn't remember a time when they had all come together and not had some kind of huge fight or explosion.

This day of all days, it was assured that something would happen. They all had very different views on their shared childhood and they had all had a very different but turbulent relationship with the man whose ashes they surrounded.

"He was a bad person and a worse Father." Diego intoned. "The world's better off without him."

Succinct.

He wasn't wrong. Even she knew that Hargreaves had been a bad father. She thought Fathers took their sons to baseball games and taught them how to shave. Told their daughters that they were beautiful no matter what and scared their boyfriends the first time they brought them to meet the parents.

Hargreaves had, of course, done none of that. He'd never taken them anywhere that wasn't for a mission or training. He'd left any life lessons that weren't mission critical to the robot. He'd never given any of them a real compliment that they hadn't shred blood, sweat and tears to earn. None of them had ever brought a partner back to the Academy. The thought alone seemed ludicrous.

"Diego!"

"My name is Number Two." He said with finality. "You know why? Because our father couldn't be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mom do it."

Eight had wondered about the names that the others had been given, it was what had kicked off her search. From what she could tell the Robot hadn't 'picked' their names either.

"Would anyone like something to eat?" The robot asked.

Eight wondered for a moment if that was another symptom of whatever was wrong with it or if it had been trying to stop the oncoming argument.

"No, it's okay, Mom." Vanya answered for all of them, with a mildly questioning tone.

"Oh okay." It said returning to it's half-dazed looking silence.

"Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was." Diego went on as if the robot hadn't interrupted him.

Hargreaves had had a lot of strange ideas. She'd never been able to get a very accurate read on the man, even as an adult. He'd just had strange expectations and strange views on the world. She'd often wondered what kind of upbringing he could have had.

"You need to stop talking." Luther warned because he didn't know how to disagree with someone without making a huge thing out of it.

"You know, you of all people should be on my side here, Number One." Diego seemingly implored as he stepped forwards.

"I am warning you." Luther said through his teeth as he began to lose his temper.

"After everything he did to you? He had to ship you a million miles away." He pushed.

"Diego stop talking." Luther leant forwards towering over his brother.

But she knew he wasn't going to. Diego was spoiling for fight and he was about to get it.

"That's how much he couldn't stand the sight of you!" He jabbed his finger into Luther's chest.

Then Luther was throwing a punch and Diego was dodging it because he had been waiting for it.

Eight began laughing, she can't help it, it was so ridiculous. They all take a few steps back, unwilling to be caught in the cross hairs. Vanya pulled the robot away with her. Klaus held an arm out in front of Five and she laughed a bit harder when she saw him slap it away with a incredulous look mixed with distain.

"Boy's, stop this at once!" Pogo tried but no one took any notice.

"Come one, Big boy." Diego cajoled, making Luther lunge predictably.

Diego took a step back out of his way and used his brother's forwards momentum to land heavy blows to his back.

"Stop it!" Vanya shouted, she'd always hated violence of any kind but especially between any of them.

Pogo shook his head and began to make his way back inside.

"Go, Two! Go!" She called as Diego swerved out of reach of another almost wild swing at his head.

"Hit him! Hit him!" Klaus cried as he followed it up with two hits to Luther's chest and a kick.

They kept going until Luther managed to grab one of Diego's arms and held him out of reach.

"Get off me!" Diego responded, punctuating each word with a hit to the arm that was holding him.

Once he was free he threw a hard superman-punch to the side of Luther's head before backing off a bit.

"We don't have time for this." She heard Five sigh and turned to watch him leave.

Eight went to follow him when the sound of a fist hitting metal was followed by clunking sound and then another. Ben's statue was on the floor, his metal head rolling slightly as it settled in the mud.

She'd always hated that statue. May the darkness within you find peace in the light. What a load of bullshit. Ben hadn't had an ounce of darkness in him; that had been the problem.

She turned to follow Five, leaving the rest of the joint with Klaus. She had more anyway.

"Oh. And there goes Ben's statue." She heard Allison narrate sardonically.

He was still in the kitchen when she got there, heading towards the foyer. She caught up with him and started walking beside him.

"You alright?"

His hands were stuffed firmly in the pockets of his shorts and a frown was spread across his face.

"It's almost like nothing has changed." He spat.

They walked through the foyer and into one of the little used corridors that lead to the gym and the medical rooms.

"Well, I don't know?" She said with a casual shrug. "They're fighting over his character now instead of for his attention."

He snorted and rolled his eyes.

"It is a bit strange," He began, slightly softer. "Two not trying to be a 'good solider' like One."

It wasn't a question but she could hear the inquiry behind the statement.

"It was Ben's death, mostly." She sighed. "He'd been going through a bit of rebel thing at the time anyway but it changed everything. Got his GED, moved out and joined the police academy as soon as he could."

"Predictable." Five was peering though the windows in the doors as they passed.

She made a humming sound in agreement.

"I didn't predict the Old Man dying though." She mused. "Honestly I thought it would be me or Diego next. Hargreaves didn't seem to age a day the whole time I knew him."

He frowned at her. It was his 'I don't understand,' frown.

"You?"

She took a breath. It was the opening she had been waiting for and kind of dreading. But she felt like she had to be honest with Five. She'd never really lied to him before. Withheld stuff, sure. But never lied.

"You know I ran solo-missions for the Old Man?" She asked and he nodded.

"Vanya mentioned them in her book."

She couldn't help baring her teeth a moment at the mention of Vanya's book. It had never been anything but trouble for her. But she went on without comment.

"Well, I was still doing that."

"I thought everyone left but Luther?" They turned at the end of the corridor and began walking back on themselves.

"I did. After Klaus left, I waited till I was eighteen, then I told him I was moving out and if he wanted me to carry on working for him, he'd have to pay me. He did in the end. I've got my own place. My own money, investments mostly." She shrugged and waited for him to ask.

He didn't. They walked in silence. When they had walked a circuit of the bottom floor and found themselves back in the lobby, she turned to him.

"There haven't been any renovations to the house. Everything's pretty much the same. A different vase or nick-knack here and there, where shits gotten broken over the years."

He nodded again.

"Is there coffee?" He asked.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Thank You For The Coffee, Apologises For The Mess.**

**Seventeen Years Ago**

They all stood at the bottom of the staircase, in their new green tracksuits, peering up at Sir Reginald Hargreaves, who stood at the top with Vanya at his side.

_"Nietzsche once said: Man is as a rope stretched between the animal and the superhuman."_

_"A rope over an abyss."_

_"Its a dangerous crossing, a dangerous looking back, a dangerous trembling and halting."_

At Hargreaves's signal, Vanya blew her whistle and clicked her stopwatch. There was a brief scuffle as Luther, Diego and Allison all tried to get in front of the others. Five and Eight stuck close behind them with Klaus and Ben trailing behind.

_"As much as you must strive to achieve individual greatness, and strive you must, for it won't come to you of its own accord, you must also remember that there is no individual stronger than the collective."_

Five jumped in front of the others with a smirk.

"It's not fair! Five is cheating!" Diego cried as his brother appeared ahead of him.

"He adapted." Hargreaves called down the stairs to them.

Eight laughed and then she was leaping over the banister to grab hold of the higher one across from her, turning and jumping again. She scrabbled to get a grip with her trainers but succeeded in pulling herself over the banister a step ahead of Five. He teleported again, putting himself four steps ahead of her.

_"The ties that bind you together, make you stronger than you would be alone."_

Diego was crying, even as he tried not to, biting his lips and holding in any sound he might make. The buzz of the tattooist's needle again, dragging across his skin, branding him.

_"They will make you impervious to the pain and hardship the world will thrust upon you."_

Klaus, Luther and Allison were already marred. Klaus held his sister in his arms as they tried to stifle their tears, each holding their throbbing wrists away from their bodies.

_"And believe me when I tell you life will be hard."_

The others waited for their turns, only a foot or so from Number Two and easily able to see his pain as his body sat stiff and his face pinched. He even recoiled from their mother's comforting hand, something Diego never did.

_"It will be painful."_

Ben was to be next and he look ready to cry already. Five's brow was creased with worry and his leg bounced impatiently. Eight fumed, her arms across her chest, her face set in a scowl.

_"We can accomplish anything when we accept responsibility together. This is what creates trust."_

None of them noticed Vanya, off out of sight, wishing she were with her brothers and sisters too, as she drew an umbrella on her wrist like the others were getting.

_"Together, you will stand against the reign of evil."_

**Diego: Number Two**

**Present Day**

Diego checked himself over in the mirror, before grabbing his bag and tucking it under his arm. They had spread their father's ashes and there was nothing left to make him stay. He had only come in the first place because he felt he should. And to be there for Mom. He would drop by at the weekend to see how she was doing.

First he had to get rid of the damn monocle.

Of course he had investigated his father's death when he had first arrived. But as far as he could tell everything was as it should be apart from the monocle. Mom had said she had been cleaning it, and he believed her, but he knew that Luther would jump to conclusions.

"Alright," He said as he entered the kitchen on his way to the garage. "I guess I'll see you guys in what, ten years? When Pogo dies?"

Klaus and Allison were the only ones in the room.

"Not if you die first." Allison snipped.

"Yeah, love you too, sis." He snipped back, not letting his anger creep into his voice. "Good luck on your next film. Hope it doesn't turn out like your marriage."

Maybe he let a little anger out? Allison's eyes narrowed and her lips pinched slightly with hurt. He turned and carried on his way. Klaus began to follow him.

"Are...Are we leaving?" He asked.

"No, I'm leaving." But Klaus just clapped.

"Fabulous, I'll get my things."

Diego rolled his eyes and sighed but gave no acknowledgement that he had heard his little brother. Still he kept his pace slow and by the time he had made it to his car, Klaus was running to catch up.

"Hey! Diego." Klaus cried as he pulled open the door and threw himself into the back seat. "You know, every time I close my eyes, I see a diarrheic hippo about to shit on my face! It's terrifying."

"Terrific." He answered flatly as he started the engine.

Klaus had said so much shit to him over the years even that image didn't shock him. His brothers hands fell on his shoulders and he could feel Klaus shake himself as if to rid the image.

"Lean back." He told him as he pulled away from his childhood home and a symbol for his oppression.

The two of them drove for a while. He had turned on his police scanner but he wasn't sure where he was going at first. Diego found himself driving around his usual patrol route out of habit before he shifted direction and headed for the port.

He would throw the monocle in the river. Better for everyone that way.

Klaus had babbled, mostly to himself, and he got marginally quieter as the journey wore on. He hoped his brother was just tired and not having a drug reaction; it was so had to tell with Klaus.

Eventually, he pulled up beside the river.

"I won't be a moment." He said over his shoulder as he got out of the car.

It was chilly by the water. The inky blackness of the river was only broken by the light of the almost full moon reflected back on it's surface.

Diego made sure he had his back to the car when he pulled out the monocle from his pocket. The metal was gold and the glass, even after being in his pocket all day, was spotless.

It was probably the single most pretension thing about their father. His insistence at wearing his monocle all the time. He'd never seen the man without it.

He held it out over the water.

He didn't regret anything he'd said at the funeral. It had all been the truth. He had been a terrible father. And a bad man. And the world was better off without him. The rest of them should finally face up to the truth now the old man was dead and gone.

After all the things the man had done to them. After all the things he put them through. All the things they'd done because their father told them to and they were kids who didn't know any better. Having been out in the real world, and not the closeted one he had grown up in, everything their father done seemed so much worse.

He heard the door to his car open behind him but he didn't turn round.

"I hate to rush you through any brooding moment you might be having, but come on man, we're starving." Klaus called in a whingy voice.

At his non-reaction, Klaus closed the door behind him. He was right through. He was brooding. He let the monocle go and it disappeared into the dark water with an almost silent splash.

At the same moment the static noise of his police radio grew in volume and a voice sounded over it.

"Gunshots reported on the 400 block of Milton Avenue, Griddy's Doughnuts."

He jogged back to the car, snatching up the radio he had balanced on the hood on his way.

"Diego, thank-you for joining us. We have decided on, drum roll please, waffles." Klaus said as he got back in the drivers seat.

"I'm going to have to drop you off at the bus stop. I've gotta get back to work." Already the adrenalin was beginning to course through his system.

"What, breaking bones and cracking skulls?" Klaus asked sighing.

"Saving lives, baby." He corrected.

He didn't do it to hurt people. He didn't particularly enjoy that part but it was necessary for the overall goal. To help people. To save lives. It was the one good thing he had gained from his childhood, the ability to help people.

Diego reached into his pocket and drew out his mask. It wasn't exactly like the one he had worn with the Academy. He'd burned that one long ago.

"I guess it's frozen waffles again." Klaus went on as Diego fixed his mask to his face.

His little brother paused, rolling his head to one side to look to something that wasn't there. Diego followed his movement as he went on to discuss eggs and bacon with the empty space next to him, in the mirror.

Klaus did that. Talked to people that weren't there. Diego could never be sure if he was using his power to talk to dead people or if he was so high he was hallucinating.

He worried about Klaus. Sometimes it felt like he worried about Klaus his whole life. When he dropped his little brother off at the bus stop and watched in the mirror as he got smaller the further away he drove, Diego couldn't help but feel a squirming guilty feeling in his stomach. He forced himself to shrug it off and concentrate on the night ahead.

Klaus would be fine.

**Four: Klaus Hargreeves**

Klaus sighed as he watched the car pull away and begin to blend in with all the other traffic. This hadn't been his aim but whatever, he'd get the bus. The bus to where was really the question? He'd been hoping to crash at Diego's. He found that he didn't want to be alone.

Well, not alone. He was never alone. He didn't fault Ben for hanging around, most of the time, but it was the rest of them he wanted to get away from. All the other dead. He'd wanted to curl up in Diego's little boiler room and go to sleep in peaceful quiet.

He was high enough for the quiet but the peaceful was going to be harder to come by if he wasn't invited to Diego's.

There was a shelter he had stayed at a few times within walking distance but, without even knowing the time, Klaus knew it would be too late to get a bed. Not that they'd let him in if he was high, which he was. High enough that they'd notice. His eyes were sure to be wrecked.

Why couldn't he just have some Waffles and a place to sleep?

Ben stood next to him in the shadow cast by the bus stop under the pale light of the streetlamp. His hood was pulled up over his face, obscuring him from view even further. Only his round, hair-less chin was visible.

"Well, what do you think?" He asked him idly, barely glancing in his direction as he looked for any sign of the bus.

Ben didn't answer. He'd been pretty quiet since they had heard about Sir's death. Well, quieter than normal. Ben had always been quiet. He'd always much preferred his books to other people.

Eventually, the bus did arrive and he did get on it, heading back into the centre of the city. The docks were really not a good place to be, especially at night.

If Diego didn't want his company then he could go to Eight's place. She always let him crash on her couch. Well, when she was in town. Last time she had given him the keys while she was away he had ended up selling her TV and two of her hand pistols. She had definitely been more pissed about the guns than the TV, but they went for so much more.

Except...Except Five was back.

As unbelievable as it seemed, Five, his brother, who he hadn't seen in sixteen, almost seventeen years, was back. His brother, who was fifty-eight but still looked like a thirteen year old, just as he had all those years ago.

He was back and had, unsurprisingly, popped off with Eight in tow to 'get coffee' as soon as he could.

"Do you think they're screwing right now?" He asked Ben, who sat next to him, looking idly out of the window as the lights of the city blurred past.

"Who?" Ben asked, gracing him with actual conversation.

"Five and Eight of course."

Neither of them had been as obvious as Luther and Allison, making goo-goo eyes at each other and sneaking off to canoodle. But they had been close. Closer than they had been with anyone else, sharing secrets and talking about things the rest of them were too 'slow' to appreciate (or, you know, find interesting what-so-ever).

Klaus hadn't noticed that it was more than just friendship or a sibling bond until after Five had disappeared. At first they'd all thought he would appear any minute but eventually, his loss had sunken in and for Eight that had meant practically stopping talking to the rest of them and staring forlornly out of windows when she wasn't obsessively training. She'd spar with them with a ferocity she usually saved for their enemies, literally growling at anyone who pushed her in anyway, including their father.

She'd even run away once trying to find him and hadn't come back for almost a month, dirty and visibly tired.

By the time they were fifteen, Eight had begun hanging out him and Ben. She'd bring him up then. Idly wondering out loud where and when he might be. That was when he had realised that, Eight at least, had been in love with Five.

It was in the way she had spoken.

Not that he'd ever been in love himself, but he could just tell that that was what it was. How she grieved for him while never giving up hope that he was still alive, out there, somewhere. The photograph of him she used to keep tucked under her pillow, that she thought no one knew about.

"Eww."

"It's not eww, it's awww." He insisted.

But it left him again asking where he would go? Because he didn't want to walk in on Five and Eight have crazy monkey sex. They seemed like the kind of people who couldn't do it without wrecking the room too. And really, imagining that was eww. Why was he thinking about this again?

Oh, right, where was he going to sleep tonight? He didn't have the cosy bunk in the rehab centre anymore and before that he was crashing at that guys place... What was his name? Klaus is sure he knew it. Actually, it didn't matter what his name was, that wasn't a great place to stay anyway. That guy had been taking way too much coke.

So, where to go, where to go? Where to go?

He gave the bus a once over. It was about half full and he was about to turn to ask Ben where he thought there might go, when he saw it.

She was young, thin, dressed up as if she was off to the club. Pretty. Until she turned and revealing how half her face was carved in. Klaus couldn't help flinching, more from the surprise than her horrific injuries. He'd seen things like that his whole life after all. It wasn't any less disturbing though.

Especially since now he had made eye contact with her, she was shuffling towards him.

He reached into his jeans for the baggy of drugs he had stashed there. He was sobering up and that was a truly terrible idea. It was a goal he had in life. To never, ever, never sober up. It only ever led to bad things.

Ben gave him a judge-y look he just did not need right then.

He pulled out the baggie, knocking out a pill or two. Or maybe three or four. It didn't matter, he just wanted it to go away. He swallowed them dry, ringing the bell, hopping up and ducking around her to get the exit.

He was vaguely aware of the looks he was getting but well... He'd stopped caring about that shit a long time ago. It wasn't like they really mattered. It was unlikely he would ever see them again.

Klaus stumbled off the bus when it pulled up, almost falling but catching himself on a lamppost. The huff the bus give as it pulled away hissed in his ears for a moment.

Forget waffles. He needed sleep.

Where was he? The world spun and he spun with it, looking for a road sign or a familiar building. The lights were bright and large and colourful. He squinted, blinking until he saw something he knew.

Ugh. He was only two blocks from the Academy.

But then, his Father was dead, wasn't he? There was no more dead-eyed looks that made him want to curl up into a ball and die. No more 'stop your snivelling, Number Four'. No more getting thrown in a dark, dank, mausoleum with ghosts scratching at his skin with their half decomposed fingers.

He could crash there. Mom would make him waffles.

So, with that he stumbled in the direction of his childhood 'home'.

**Five: Number Five**

**An hour and forty-eight minutes earlier**

He shouldn't have been surprised that there was no coffee. It was something he hadn't tried until he begun working for the Commission but after he'd he found he couldn't work as efficiently without it. Their father had always been a man of consistency and there had never been coffee in the house before. Still he looked for it as Eight watched him with a vaguely amused smile.

Had it been anyone else the smile might have gnawed at his already slightly frayed nerves. But it didn't. She was just pleased to see him and he was just as pleased to see her. Five found that his eyes kept being drawn back to her. He had to take her in, really see the adult version of her that was before him. Every time he looked at her it sunk in a little more that he had really made it. That this woman in front of him was really Eight, all grown up.

But he couldn't let himself be distracted. He had eight days to save the world. He needed coffee. Then he would figure out a way to tell his siblings about the upcoming apocalypse. Then he'd find Delores. He'd think much more clearly with Delores at his side.

Klaus was there as well, sitting in one of the chairs surrounding the kitchen table. A guitar was sat in his lap and he plucked at it sporadically. His head hung back and his eyes were closed. Five thought he was high. When he'd left Klaus had begun to smoke weed but Vanya's book had stated that it had led to a much larger problem.

Alison entered the room behind him. He could tell it was her as she was the only one that was wearing high heels in the house. He didn't bother looking up and carried on looking through the shelves.

"Where's Vanya?"

"Oh, she gone." Allison answered.

"That's unfortunate."

It was. He'd wanted to talk to Vanya as much as he wanted to talk to Eight. He was sure they would listen to him and help him get the rest on board so they could stop the apocalypse.

Five sighed and turned to look at the three others in the room.

"An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms, nineteen bathrooms, but no, not a single drop of coffee." He bemoaned.

"Dad hated caffeine." Allison said as if he was stupid.

Klaus chuckled. "Well, he hated children too, and he had plenty of us."

"Yeah, but he really loved experiments." Eight added dryly, with a single eyebrow raised as if asking why anyone would have thought anything else.

Five wasn't there to talk about the Old man though. He'd gone through a lot of worse things than anything that happened when he was a child at the Academy. In fact, he had often thought in his teens that without his father's training he probably would have died shortly after landing himself in the future. He hadn't missed him much, mostly he'd missed Vanya, Ben and of course, Eight.

"I'm taking the car." He glanced up at Eight and she nodded that, yes, she did want to come with him.

"Where are you going?" Klaus asked.

"To get a decent cup of coffee." Hadn't that been what he'd spent the last ten minutes looking for?

"Do you even know how to drive?" Allison asked.

He grit his teeth. It was the little boy body, he knew it. If he looked like his actual fifty-eight year old self, no one would be questioning his capabilities.

"I know how to do everything." He spat before grabbing Eight's arm and jumping them to the garage.

They landed next to the box on the wall that housed the car keys. He opened the box, dropping Eight's arm and grabbed the keys. He stomped over to their fathers car, Eight following his pace. When he'd unlocked the car, Eight jumped and slid over the engine to reach the passenger-side door.

He threw his door open, slumped into the driver's seat and pulled the door closed with a slam. He was tall enough to reach the peddles, which he gave a silent thank you for; he may have killed someone if he had been forced to ask his siblings to ferry him around.

He didn't pay attention to Eight as she pulled her door open and slid into the seat next to him. He reached for his seatbelt and only noticed the change in her as he went to buckle it, turning towards her.

Next to him sat a thirteen year old Eight dressed in her Umbrella Academy Uniform just as he was. He gasped. She looked exactly like she had the day he had accidentally left them. It took him a stupid amount of moments to realise what she had done.

"Don't do that." He snapped at her, even as it seemed to finally sink in fully that he really was sitting next to her.

"What? I don't want anyone thinking I'm your mother." She frowned back.

He couldn't repress the shiver. No, he didn't want that either. It had always felt off to name her his sister so he'd stopped years and years ago. People thinking she was his mother would be so much worse.

"Whatever." He said as he started the car up, turning away.

It was different driving on a road with other cars on it. He'd taught himself to drive in the apocalypse. Quite a lot of the cars still had gas in them and some had even started. He'd been able to travel further looking for food and other supplies when he had found a car that worked. He hadn't driven himself when on missions for the Commission. He'd been forced to use public transport.

"Granted, you know how to drive, but you do not know the rules of the road." Eight eventually commented with half a laugh after a close call with another vehicle.

He'd grunted and kept his eyes on the road. Not long after they pulled up outside a very familiar building.

"I haven't been here in ages." Eight told him as they got out of the car.

Griddy's Donuts was empty when they waked in and took a seat at the bar. It was strange to see the place again, almost as it was.

Five positioned himself so he could see the door behind him in the reflection of the metal bell. It was habit more than anything. He didn't expect trouble till at least tomorrow. It would take them a while to track him down.

As Eight hopped on to the seat next to him, he couldn't help the smile that came to his face at the sight of her feet. Her boots weren't a part of the outfit Father had made her, so they couldn't shift. They looked ridiculous and clunky hanging from the ends of her skinny legs. He was slightly amazed she made it from the car to her seat without falling over them.

The bell on the door behind them ran, signalling another customer. Five couldn't help but note that Eight used the reflection of the bell in the same way he did. It took barely a moment for the two of them to decide that the over-weight guy in his late fifties wasn't a threat. He guy took the seat next to him, separated by the curve of the counter.

Finally the waitress came out from around the back.

"Sorry." She apologised. "Sink was blocked. What'll it be?"

The waitress ignored the two of them after a cursory smile and aimed her questions at the man that had just come in. He bit back on an impatience sigh.

"Um, give me a chocolate éclair." He answered and the waitress hummed writing on her little notepad.

Then she stood there awkwardly and Five could see Eight rolling her eyes out the corner of his own.

"Can I get the kids some milk or something?" She asked, glancing at the two of them again before turning back to the man.

He couldn't help but scoff. "The Kid wants coffee. Black."

"And I'll have a jam donut, thanks." Eight said barely looking at the woman, focusing instead on her own fingernails.

"Cute kids." She stuttered at the guy again.

The two of them pull ridiculous smiles at the same moment. Eight's was particularly sickly sweet, as she tilted her head just so.

They drop from their faces as she turned to fill their orders. Five sighed again, his mood, which hadn't been great to begin with, was rapidly souring. It was this stupid body. Why did he have to look thirteen again? Couldn't he have been in his early twenties, he was at peak strength back then.

He glanced around at his surroundings again. He was sure the place used to be cleaner, brighter when they were kids.

"I don't remember this place being such a shithole." He said glancing at Eight.

She turned in her chair so she was leaning against the counter, looking out at the shop floor.

She snorted. "I think that's the nostalgia talking."

Five shrugged but he was sure the place had gone down hill since the last time he had been there. The guy next to him was giving him a questioning look and again he found himself opening his mouth to answer him.

"Used to sneak out with my brothers and sisters and eat donuts till we puked." He'd been alone too long, just him and Delores. "Simpler times, huh?"

"I suppose..."

Eight snorts again and when he turned to her, she was giving him an amused smirk and a slightly raised eyebrow. He frowned at her. He may look like a child but he wasn't going to pretend to be anything he wasn't.

The waitress came back with his coffee, pacing the donut and the éclair on either side of him. Eight turned, picking up her donut and began reaching into her bra with the other hand, he assumed looking for money.

"I got theirs." The man said handling over a few bills to the waitress.

"Thanks." Five said a bit surprised.

He gave the man another once over. That was when he saw that the guy worked for a tow truck company. That could be useful.

As he questioned the guy, he could practically feel Eight interest perk up beside him. She didn't ask about the address he got or what he needed it for. Instead she ate her donut and gave him a look. One that said he was going to be telling her what was going on, and soon.

It wasn't long after the tow-truck guy had left that he felt Eight tense up next to him. He was half way through a delicious sip of hot coffee but he had an idea what had set her off.

The bell behind him rang once more. He set his cup down. A glance at the bell confirmed his supposition. Nine men spread out between them and the front door. Men carrying heavy duty weaponry.

Eight began practically buzzing with anticipation beside him. Just like when they were kids, he felt the almost contagious thrill of the fight. Hargreeves had often paired them together. As much as he didn't have time for this fight, he was also somewhat curious of what Eight could do now. He'd learnt a few things since they had last fought side by side and he was sure she had aswell.

"Hmmm." He hummed projecting an air of calm that he knew was sending chills through his enemies. "That was fast. I thought I'd have more time before they found me."

Which is true. The only explanation is that they had implanted him with a tracker. It would make sense. They'd never trusted him completely. If an operation like the Commission could have any semblance of trust.

"Okay." The head guy said.

He was pointing his gun at Five's head but he was equally as wary of Eight who had begun to smile just a little, not taking her eyes of off the man.

"So, let's be professional about this, yeah? On your feet and come with us. We don't care about the girl. They just want to talk." He tried to seem calm but Five could detect the tremors in his voice and arms.

He still hadn't turned to look at the guy but he had taken the placement of each of his cronies, using reflections and the slight sounds they each made as they nervously shifted from one foot to the other.

"I have nothing to say." He kept his body lose, even as the adrenaline began to fill his system.

"It doesn't have to go this way." He insisted while Eight kicked at her boots, triggering some kid of release as they fell off of her feet. "You think I want to shoot a pair of kids? Go home with that on my conscience?"

Five shared a glance with Eight. She was going to launch herself across the room at the two guys on her left. He was expected to pick her up form over there and shift them else where. He had ideas about what he was going to do after that.

"I wouldn't worry about that." He casually reached over and picked up the stainless steel knife that lay beside him on the counter. "You won't be going home."

Then all hell broke loose.

Eight leapt in the same moment he spatial-jumped from his stool to the lead guys back, slamming the knife into his neck. He had to jump away again as his team aimed their guns and opened fire on the space he had just occupied. Eight had opened the throat of the first guy and stabbed her claws through the stomach of the second by the time he was next to her and could wrap one of his arms around her waist and jump them outside, looking in at the carnage through one of the large windows.

Almost without thought, he'd made a old hand signal to her and jumped them again so they were standing between two of the guys. She went left as he went right, picking up another knife from a table and launching it at another guy, before jumping again.

He landed on his side, laying across one of the tables across the room.

"Hey arseholes!" He shouted, distracting them from Eight as she launched herself bodily at another armed gunman.

As he jumped outside again, he reached up and loosened his tie, waving at one of the guys that proceeded to almost empty his clip through the glass door. But Five wasn't there anymore. He was already using his tie as a garrotte, crushing another's windpipe. The guy at the door turned just in time to receive a knife to the eye.

Eight narrowly missed getting shot as he grabbed her and the two of them disappeared, reappearing for long enough to get the last two guys to shoot each other. Standing in the middle of a room, surrounded by bodies, Five let go of the hold he had round Eight's waist.

Her claws slowly began to retract and shift back to human hands but it did nothing for the blood splatter that covered her up to her elbows.

A grunt from across the room drew his attention to the leader of the group. He had bled out enough that it wasn't likely that he would survive. Still he tried to drag himself across the room. Five took the three steps towards him before getting down on one knee to break his neck. It went with an easy snap.

Dropping the corpse, he turned it over, checking the man's pockets. In one he found the tracking device. When he turned back, Eight was using a serviette to clean some of the gore off of her hands, looking exceedingly calm. Her bare feet already covered in her boots.

He ran the device over himself, determining that the tracker was in his right arm. As he cut into himself with a clean knife, Eight appeared beside him, watching him with a wrinkle in her brow. She pressed clean serviettes into the cut to staunch the blood once he had pulled out the tracking beacon.

As her attention seemed to be drawn to his wound, Five let himself really look at her face and try to decide if he had just shocked Eight with his brutality. Then again they had killed together before; rarely but they had. Hargreeves had never shied away from gruesome or adult topics because they were children. They learnt eye-gouging and other crippling tactics along with their ABC's.

They left in silence, only pausing to retrieve his tie from around the neck of one of the corpses they had left behind. He dropped the tracker in the road next to the store, so he was sure that the Commission knew he had taken out their first team.

"I've got a first aid kit at my place." Eight informed him as they got back into the car.

Five put the car into gear and pulled away. He didn't have much time. Only eight days and the Commission wasn't far behind.

"We're going to Vanya's."

Eight sighed. "Fine. But you better be telling me what's going on."

"When we get there." He insisted.

They drove in an almost comfortable silence. The adrenaline was wearing off but they were both used to the jittery feeling that came afterwards. So use to it, it barely touched them. Not like it used to, when they'd return home still shaking. Five's arm was beginning to hurt though. But it was minor, he'd had much worse and carried on regardless.

When they pulled up, they were both surprised to have reached the place before Vanya herself. They let themselves in, Eight returning to her normal look for ease of access.. Five was a bit annoyed with how easy it was to climb through the window and break in to Vanya's place. It wasn't exactly a nice neighbourhood.

Eight looked around at the room with a slight air of distaste and a roll of her eyes, before making her way through the house, no doubt in search of a first aid kit for his arm. He didn't know why she was making such a big deal, he'd been hurt much worse and he was less likely to gain an infection when he wasn't sleeping on the dirt ground.

He heard footsteps approaching the front door and recognized Vanya. She unlocked the door and reached in to turn the light on as she entered. He flicked on the lamp next to him, making her jump out of her skin.

"Jesus!" She exclaimed when she saw him, almost dropping her groceries.

"You should have locks on your windows." It bugged him.

"I live on the second floor." Vanya argued as she dropped a bag next to the door and took off her coat and scarf.

"Rapists can climb." He told her but he could tell she wasn't taking him very seriously.

"He's not wrong." Eight said as she entered, giving Vanya another fright.

She carried bandages and wound cleaner in with her, settling on the arm of his chair and putting his injured arm in her lap. It had been a very long time since he had touched another person without violent intent. Five found himself hyperaware of the heat soaking through her trousers and into his arm. He noticed that her hands were blood free but the sleeves of her blazer were not. She'd scrubbed her hands.

"Is that blood?" Vanya asked as she got a good look at the two of them, distracting him from Eight's hands on him.

Her eyes were drawn to his collar and he reached out to pull it away from his face so he could see. The dried blood stood out against the clean fabric. The splatter was probably from one of the men he had stabbed judging from the shape and direction.

"What does it look like?" Was Eight's snide reply, which she gave without looking away from the cut he had made.

"It's not mine." He reassured. 'mostly.' He added silently, avoiding eye contact.

Vanya huffed and made her way around the sofa to take a seat closer to them. Five glanced away from his rolled up sleeve, observing his little sister. Her adult face was the one he was most familiar with. He had carried her book around, with her picture on the back smiling at him, for decades. It had been a weak smile, faked for the photograph, but she couldn't even muster that up in that moment. Mostly Vanya looked tired, run down.

"Why are you here?" She asked starring at him with large round eyes.

He sighed as he prepared himself. "I've decided you two are the only ones I can trust."

Eight turned her head slightly, a sure sign she was listening even as her hands and eyes moved over his wound as she dabbed it, trying to clean it out. He grimaced at the pain but held back to hiss. He had to tell them.

"Why me?" Vanya asked.

For a second he scrambled for the right thing to say.

"Because you're ordinary." He instantly knew he had made a mistake as she winced and Eight pinched his arm out of Vanya's sight. "Because you'll listen."

They have to listen.

Vanya nodded and he inhaled sharply trying to find the right words. He had occasionally allowed himself to imagine what he would say when he finally got back. Plans he had made turned to liquid in his head and all he could really picture was the smoke in his lungs and the devastation surrounding him as he landed in the future.

"When I jumped forward and got stuck in the future, do you know what I found?" He barely paused for the soft no that came from Vanya's lips. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

It had gone on for miles and miles and miles, until he had to accept that the whole world was gone. Every human, every animal apart from a small number of bugs and the like.

"As far as I could tell, I was the last person left alive. I never figured out what killed the human race, but I did find something else." He took a breath. "The date it happens."

Eight had stilled complete beside him and Vanya had leant towards him.

"The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it." He'd always thought he'd have more time to investigate.

Silence sat between the three of them.

"I'll put on a pot of coffee."


End file.
